


The Best Days

by efficaceous



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Age Play, Daddy Kink, Daddy/little - Freeform, F/M, Littles, M/M, Non-Sexual Age Play, daddy dom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-01 11:46:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4018585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/efficaceous/pseuds/efficaceous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ya'll wanted some Little Tony and Daddy Steve?</p><p>This is a total off shoot of my Service Sub Coulson/Dom Hawkeye fic The Lion and the Maiden.<br/>Same 'verse, same rules.<br/>I guess I'll update this when I can?<br/>Be warned- I suck at plotting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When Steve pulled into the driveway and saw a multi colored chalk schematic of … something on the sidewalk, he knew who was waiting inside. He took a moment to compose himself; he wasn’t go in to meet his lover, his submissive or his friend. He was going in to greet his loving and affectionate boy, whose sheer exuberance filled his heart with joy every day they were together.

 

Which wasn’t every day.

 

Most days Tony was happy to go into subspace with a typical cock worship scene, or maybe by cross dressing with a huge plug in his ass, dancing while he cooked Steve’s supper. He leaned towards 50’s ruffled aprons and pearls. Real ones, of course.

 

Other days, slightly less often, Tony would bring home a sweet young thing that had been fully vetted by a service SHIELD employed for just such purposes. Then he would methodically overwhelm the sub with pleasurable stimulation, usually ending with a toy in every orifice and fluids everywhere.

 

(Steve still wasn’t sure if Tony was actually into splosh or if it was just a logical outcome from his proclivity to put massive amounts of lube everywhere when he was playing. )

 

Some days Tony wanted to be left alone, usually when he was in the throes of a creative zone. He’d retreat into his lab and Steve would hear the thump of bass in every room, through the night. Luckily, Steve needed very little sleep, and could easily miss a few days in a row with no ill effects.

 

But sometimes, maybe half a dozen times a year, on the best days, Steve would open a door and find Tony sitting on the floor playing with action figures. Or in the tub with a rubber duckie, waiting for someone to wash his hair for him and cuddle him dry. There didn’t seem to be a pattern to when Tony wanted to be little, it didn’t seem to happen more when he was under stress, or anything else Steve could track.

 

He cherished these days, took endless photos of Tony in footie pajamas, of Tony sucking on a pacifier sweetly in his sleep, of Tony swinging gleefully on the tire swing Steve had hung from the tall tree in their backyard.

 

Their fridge had a few finger paintings on it, one clear self portrait of a small dark haired stick figure holding hands with a tall blond stick figure wearing a 5 and a half pointed star on his chest.

(Steve had that one laminated so it would last.)

 

So when he saw the chalk image on their walk, he opened the door happily, hopefully, and anticipating Tony’s delight at the model helicarrier Steve had bought a few weeks back and hidden as a special surprise for when the occasion arose.

 

 


	2. I don't wike it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the thing that inspired me:  
> http://winterscap.tumblr.com/post/117296785514

“I don’t wike it.” Under his breath, really.

“Excuse me?” The interviewer wasn’t sure he had heard correctly.

 

“I said, I don’t l **ike** it.” Cap straightened his shoulders and gave the camera a patented, winning, smile.

“I don’t like it when people try and divide the Avengers through malicious gossip. We’re a team of equals, working to protect New York and the United States of America and that should be enough.”

 

* * *

 

“I did it again, Tony.”

“Did what, Capsicle?”

“Please don’t call me that. I said ‘wike’ instead of ‘like’ again. In public. During an interview!”

“Well, I am very quotable. Did you tell them you were quoting a very quotable and sexy man?”

“No, I didn’t, because I wasn’t quoting the man, you know that. I was quoting Little you. You just say it all the time when you’re down there and it got in my dang brain. ‘How about a bath, lil’ guy?’ ‘ _I don’t wike it._ ’ ‘Want some yogurt?’ ‘ _I don’t wike it_.’ ‘Ready for naptime?’ _‘I don’t wike it._ ’”

 

Steve’s mimicry is excellent and manages to convey Little Tony’s terrible two-ness utterly. The kid seems to have just learned he can say no, have likes and dislikes that will be respected, and is milking it for all it’s worth. The thing is, it’s adorable in the moment. Tony’s face screws up into this mieux of complete disgust that makes Steve laugh every time and give in to the kid, mostly. So they have sponge baths, frozen yogurt pops, and cuddles-that-turn-into-naps instead.

 

It’s just embarrassing when his affection for the little guy spills over into his public persona. Even though it’s clearly an affectionate aspect of his Daddy Dom self, it _could_ be construed as the opposite- as Captain America having Little tendencies. There’s less bias than there used to be but Steve still doesn’t want to open that can of worms, only because it would lead to revealing his relationship with Tony. Big or little, Tony doesn’t need that kind of obsessive press focus on his personal life.

 

While Steve has been thinking, Tony has been chattering about some 3-D printing feedstock that’s biodegradable inside the body AND provides a temporary bodily luminescence.

 

“Is that something people need, Tony?”

“Need? Ah… no. Not precisely. But they definitely WANT it. And so I shall benevolently give it to them. Are you coming home soon?”

Used to the quick switches of thought trains of his .. partner, Cap assured him and ended the conversation warmly, reminding him to eat something that would expire in the next year, rather than the hyper artificial stuff he seemed to love.

 

“Will do, love you Daddy.” It had just slipped out. Sometimes that happened if they had recently talked about his little side.

“Love you too, kiddo.:

 

Tony tapped the ‘end’ button and stared meditatively at the phone in his hand.

“Gone too long,” his small voice opined. “I don’t wike it.”


End file.
